You have taken away my companions and loved ones. Darkness is my closest friend. (Psalm 88:18 NLT)

The 88^th Psalm has been my companion for almost 25 years thanks to a sermon by Dr. D. R. Davis. To be more precise, I have come to admire my mentor from ages past, Heman the Ezrahite. Heman had the guts—the audacity—to close a prayer to the one true and living God with the statement: “Darkness is my closest friend.” Taking that to heart has given me courage to keep searching for a way out the many times I have found myself in my own Mirkwood or Shadow Valley. Many might mistakenly take Heman’s poetic monologue to the Lord as doubt. And in our twenty-first century definitions it does resemble doubt in a way. But it is really a lament from a circumstance of distress. He is straight with God: I am as good as dead; You have thrown me into the lowest pit; O Lord, why do you reject me? (4a, 6a, 14a) And he is still praying.

Further, he knows who he is talking to: O Lord, God of my salvation (1a). He is taking his pleas and cries and tears to the Covenant Lord who does not seem to be listening. But what else can he do? What else can you do when you find yourself in the darkest valley (Psalm 23:4b)? What else could Peter do when the crowds began turning from Jesus (John 6:68)? I invite you to read Heman’s prayer line by line. He makes the profound assumption that God cares to listen to him recount his troubles and afflictions, his fear and loneliness. He argues a logical case with the Almighty as to why he ought to answer: Can those in the grave declare your unfailing love? Can they proclaim your faithfulness in the place of destruction? (v. 11) Lord, if you let me die, I won’t be here to praise you! (Reader, do not get hung up on the language. He knew about the resurrection (see Psalms 16 and 116). That is not the point. He wants the Lord now! His closest friend is darkness after all.)

This psalm leaves the reader hanging. Psalm 13, on the other hand, allows us to experience the happy ending. In Psalm 88 the last word is darkness. If that is where you are today, do not despair. The psalm has been preserved. It seems Heman survived to tell his story. And now it is an encouragement to us when neither friend nor family can console us. May we in the valley today, like Heman’s musical cohort Aspah, say: Let me remember my song in the night; let me meditate in my heart (Ps 77:6 ESV).